Three on Three
by Vashti
Summary: The only thing worse than one messed up mutant is three. (incomplete, ch. 1 edited, ch. 4 added)
1. First

Author's Note: I've updated this post, but it's _still_ incomplete. i'm posting it with the full knowledge that it's incomplete and I am imparting that knowledge to you. Three of my X-men friends have looked this over and, so far, this is what I've come up with. Any ruination is still on my head. You have been warned.

§§§ 

Three on Three  
vashti

The young students passed looks among themselves as Professor Xavier paused mid-sentence. They knew he was "hearing" something from the way he cocked his head to one side, looking at nothing they could see.

"P-Professor…"

He shook himself out of whatever had caught his usually focused attention. "Yes, Amelie?"

"Is everything all right?" Her voice quavered with fear. Of the youngsters in the room, Amelie had been at Xavier's School for the Gifted the longest. Perhaps that explained the worry she so obviously felt.

"Yes, Amelie," he said with infinite kindness. "It's just the mind of another mutant inadvertently brushing mine. You may sit down."

Eyes over-wide, another student asked, "Is it a good mutant or a bad mutant?"

The Professor smiled. "Neither. She just…is, as are most people, mutant or otherwise. Now, since you've asked Brandon, perhaps you can tell me what we were talking about before I interrupted you so dreadfully." And so the class continued, blissfully unaware of the exchange between Professor X and his protégé Jean Grey.

_You're sure she's searching for us, Professor?_

Not searching for the X-Men, per se, Jean, but desperately looking for help. I believe it was her desperate need rather than the strength of her powers that has caused her to touch our minds…and likely the minds of other telepaths.

Shall I tell Scott to assemble the team, Professor?

There was a pause in the mental exchange before Professor Xavier agreed. _But take only a skeleton crew. I get the impression there is more to our unnamed friend than meets the mental eye. _

_So not Beast_, came the thought with an accompanying mental smile.

_Not until we understand her and her situation, and she ours._

Yes Professor.

"Well if we're leaving Hank we might as well leave Logan behind too," Scott said jocularly.

"Watch it, bub," Logan growled.

Hank put a large furry hand on Logan's shoulder. "Do not be distraught, my friend. Despite the levity of Scott's remark it is true that a man who considers using adamantium claws as part and parcel of hand to hand combat may be found disconcerting to a young mutant in distress."

Logan looked at him blankly.

"She may get freaked out, Logan," Jean said.

"Knew what he said, Jeannie, just can't see how it matters. What'll ya do if she turns out ta be somethin' more like the Professor thinks," he said to Scott.

"Jean, Rogue and myself should be fine," Scott said.

Logan shrugged. "Too bad, cause I'm still goin' with ya."

Scott started to argue.

Jean put a hand on his shoulder. "It can't hurt."

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Scott let it go boarding behind his wife.

§§§

Three hours later, when they had finally subdued the young mutant, Cyclops was indeed happy that he'd allowed Wolverine to join them. The girl had claws of her own, and a nasty-quick way of using them. She could take a good beating too, but that seemed to be a fairly common mutant talent. Rogue was still glowering at the girl, however. She'd dared to punch the redhead back. After the redhead had knocked her into a wall. Finally, while Wolverine distracted her in claw to claw combat -- Cyclops had noted that hers seemed to be natural rather than metallic like Wolverine's or Yuriko's -- Jean had managed to bring the girl to her knees. By telekinetically bending back her claws.

"Them your own?" Cyclops heard Wolverine ask the girl in the back. He'd been set to watch her.

"Maybe. Ain't yours?"

Cyclops heard the unmistakable _snikt_ of something, Wolverine's claws, being unsheathed. "Mostly." He also heard humor in his comrade-in-arms' voice. "Yours are nice. For a girl."

She snorted. "Wait 'til you see my sister." There was silence for a long moment and then for the only God knew how many-eth time: "My sister will save me."

Wolverine chuckled darkly. "Ain't no need to be rescued, half-pint."

Cyclops could almost hear the girl go spitting mad but, and he had to hand it to her, she kept her cool. 

For Wolverine's part, he recognized the subtle muscle tightening that prefaced releasing his own adamantium laced claws. He could just bet she was itching to let them loose again. "It hurts, don't it?"

"I've taken worse beatings."

While he filed that bit of information away… "Ain't what I'm talkin' about." His chin jutted toward her hands, forcibly crossed on her lap. Loosing her claws would not only entail the incredible pain of piercing her own flesh, but would likely open the major arteries running along the inside of her thighs. "Betcha wanna gut us all," he said softly so their fearless leader wouldn't hear. He respected the girl.

The lines of anger and worry crossing her face relaxed. It made her look younger. "I don't want to kill you all. I just want ta be let go."

"So you can find your sister."

She shook her head slowly, as if the statement were highly amusing and any faster motion would make burst forth in a peal of giggles. "So I c'n find my _brother_. Cara'll find me fine on'er own." She turned away from Wolverine, looking out the windows of the Blackbird. "Always does."

§§§

__

I ain't where I was. 

Who in heaven have you been hanging around?

Mental shrug._ Dunno who they are. Callin' themselves the _X-Men._ Ya heard of'em?_

Sure. They're okay. The Master was never fond of them. Don't tell me you got into a fight with those guys.

……

You didn't!

I ain't know! 

I thought I was the predisposed cat-fighter. How am I supposed to find you now? You know my telepathy isn't as good as yours.

I got faith in ya, Cara. Ya ain't never let me down before.

Mental shudder._ I'll find you. If only to get you away from whomever it is you've assimilated this time._

…I miss ya, Cara. …An' I'm scared.

We both are. Don't worry…we'll find him. You just send out another tele-beacon and I'll scent you out.

Smile._ See ya soon, Cara._

Ditto.

Justifiably wary with their suddenly quiescent prisoner, Cyclops insisted that she remain restrained. "Just in case."

"She ain't a threat ta us anymore, One-Eye."

Cyclops bristled at the familiar nickname but kept his ire to himself. "I'd rather be safe than sorry."

For her part, their prisoner didn't seem to exactly mind. She didn't even seem to need Wolverine's steadying hand as they descended the steps of the Blackbird: the feline grace with which she'd dodged a good many of their blows and inflicted her own helping her keep her balance. 

"Ain't ya gonna blindfold me?"

Rogue snorted. "She's startin' ta sound like ya, Wolverine."

He shrugged. As did the girl. 

Rogue snickered.

"Ain't like I did it on purpose," she muttered as she was led from the hanger deeper into the bowels of their headquarters. An expression of sullen acceptance on her face, she followed them, ignoring the wonders of the cold metallic corridors as if she saw them everyday.

She gasped.

Wolverine came up behind her shoulder. "Ya alright, darlin'?" Something about her reminded him of Jubilee. Which probably explained the wave of protectiveness he felt for her.

"Ain't sure. Ya got telepaths in this place?"

"I'm a telepath," the slim redhead who had nearly ripped her claws from her hands said, turning her head.

"You in my head then, Red?"

Jean was startled by how much this new mutant sounded like Logan. She was almost positive that the girl's speech patterns had been completely unique when they'd first encountered her. Of course there hadn't been a terrible lot of talking. Not physical talking at least. "No, I'm not. It must be the Professor."

"An' who's that? An' what's he doin' in my head?" All she missed was the belligerence the same situation would have elicited from Wolverine.

"We shall have to ask him," Jean said before turning away, already questioning the Professor telepathically. Have _you touched her mind, Professor?_

Yes Jean. It's quite fascinating. She can feel_ me, but apparently not much else. Which seems odd after the telepathy you witnessed._

I agree. Please, Professor, when we meet you could you pay close attention to her speech?

Her speech, Jean?

Yes. I can't be sure, but I think the girl has begun to mimic Logan's way of speaking. I don't know if it's to ingratiate herself with him or…

Or if it is part of her powers.

Jean could almost see her mentor nod sagely.

_I quite understand Jean. Of course I believe Logan has been duly impressed with her fighting and does not need mimicry to do the job._

Jean smiled to herself.

Catching the gesture from the corner of his eyes, Cyclops asked, "Everything okay?"

Her smile broadened to include her husband. "So far."

"This where ya takin' me?" the young mutant asked.

"Yup," was Wolverine's elegant reply.

A chuckle bubbled up from deep within her throat. It even gave Wolverine momentary pause. Then the doors slid open to reveal an elegant, bald man in a three-piece suit and the fanciest wheelchair she'd ever seen.

"Do come in," he said, as they crowded inside. 

She heard the doors swish closed behind her. 

"I don't believe we've received the pleasure of knowing your name."

But she had finally shaken off her grumpy nonchalance. The large room with its walls of maps like out of some war movie, the control panels and screens…so many screens. She opened her mouth to breath. Big as this room turned out to be, it felt incredibly small. Made her _feel_ small. 

"Scott, please remove her restraints," the Professor said quietly as he monitored her easily read emotions. Even Logan had zeroed in on her as his hypersensitive senses picked up physical response to it all. 

Scott moved to obey. She hardly seemed to notice -- only rubbing her wrists vaguely. It was the Master's room all over again. All it needed was the big observation window over by the left, set high, high above where he made them train. And run. And fight. Be his circus cats. His lab animals.

"She ain't lookin' so good, Prof," Logan said in rumbling warning.

So little room to breath in here with all these people. _God_ it looked like the Master's office…

"I quite agree. Shall we go upstairs to my office."

Again she didn't seem to hear them. Rogue, who knew all too well how memory could engulf you without warning, took pity on the young mutant. "C'mon, sugah. We're gonna go someplace a mite nicer'n this'un," she said, taking the girl's arm and steering her back out the way they had come. "Although this ain't too bad once ya get used to it," she added conversationally.

"Huh?"

"We're goin' ta Professah Xavier's office, sugah." She still had the girl by the arm.

Who looked down at the chair-bound gentleman. "Is that you?"

"Yes, dear. I am Professor Charles Xavier."

"Was that you pokin' around in m'head?"

His smile was reassuring as the little party stopped in front of the elevator that would lead them into the mansion proper. "I was not, as you say, 'poking around' but merely scanning your surface thoughts."

"I felt ya. It was like a han' touchin' m'mind."

His smile faltered imperceptibly.

_Did you hear that Professor?_

Yes, her voice is losing some of Logan's quality but seemingly in favor of Rogue's.

What does it mean Professor?

We shall see, Jean.

Within moments they were ensconced in Professor's Xavier's office. Quite unlike the war-room they had just left, Xavier's office was a thing of warm wood and bright daylight. The girl lost the hard look she had worn on their march through the mansion's tunnels. Slipping her arm from Rogue's she went to the window. Both Scott and Rogue started toward her, but a wave of the Professor's hand stopped them.

The girl turned away from the window. "Y'know my sister says ya ain't half bad. She says pickin' a fight with ya was one a the stupidest things I've ever done."

"You've certainly won the respect of the X-Men."

The smile that slipped from her mouth was downright feral. "You'd a never been able ta take all'a us."

"All of you?" Professor Xavier inquired, still carrying on his mental conversation with Jean. They had noticed her reversion to many of Logan's habits as soon she had left Rogue's immediate presence. Even that, however, seemed to be changing.

The girl's face clouded. "There's three a us."

"Ya got two sisters out there like you, sugah?" from Rogue.

The girl shook her head. "Sister an' a brother. An' we're nothin' like each other. Cara's more like him," she said pointing with her chin to Logan. "Guess Tarsus is like you, Prof."

"A telepath?"

Her expression darkened further. "Psychic vampire."

There was a moment of stillness as the group took in her admission. "And what about you? We don't even know your name."

"Sorry 'bout that. Habit. It's Ashlyn. Guess I'm a cross 'tween the two of'em. Makes sense bein' the middle an' all." She sat on the window seat.

Professor Xavier cocked his head to one side. "There's something you're not telling us."

"Didn't even feel ya this time, Prof--"

"That's Professor to you, young lady," Scott broke in. Something about the girl prickled on an instinctive level.

"It's quite all right Scott. I don't mind." He turned to Ashlyn. "You were saying?"

"Right…'bout my family…" She unthinkingly released her claws and scratched the back of her neck. "We're triplets."

"Identical?" Jean asked, curiosity soaring.

"As identical as fraternal trips can get. There ain't no denyin' the family resemblance." Ashlyn felt itchy in her own skin. A distinctive urge to rub up against something rough, as if she were trying to slough off her skin, came over her. _Cara, where are you?_

_She is on her way, my dear_.

Ashlyn looked up so fast stars danced across the vision. "You heard me," she accused.

Scott spoke up for the Professor. "Professor Xavier is the most powerful telepath on Earth.

"Ain't no one asked your opinion, One-Eye."

Scott bristled visibly. All but forgotten in the sole dark corner of the office, Logan chuckled throatily.

"Ashlyn!" Professor Xavier, sharply. "That was uncalled for."

She managed to look contrite. "I'm sorry. But he ain't exactly been peaches and cream since we ran into each other, if y'know what I mean."

Which did nothing to diffuse Cyclops' sudden anger. "We didn't start the fight."

"Ya didn't exactly stop it either, did ya?" Ashlyn demanded, jumping to her feet.

"Had you listened--"

"_Me_. I didn't see you do much more'n order everybody around--"

"You came at us--"

"Scott! Ashlyn!" The Professor called over their escalating voices as they began to circle each other to no avail. He was loath to use his abilities to stop them -- and more than a little chagrined with his pupil for falling to so simple a stab at his pride -- but it seemed they would give them little choice. If his and Jean's guess was right, it wouldn't take much more for the girl to let her fists and claws do the talking for her.

The door to the office opened. Hank McCoy poked his head in. "Professor, I thought I heard--" He caught sight of Cyclops and an unknown mutant circling in hot debate. "Oh my." He slipped into the room and into the dark corner with Logan. 

"Yer just in time, Hank."

"So I see. I had thought I'd heard voices raised in anger and had come to see what might the matter be. And why _are_ Scott and the rescued mutant -- I perforce assume that this is the young mutant whom the Professor sent you to save?"

Logan grinned wolfishly. "She wasn't exactly needin' savin'. Though it's startin' ta look like Slim over there might." He took a deeper breath confirming what his senses had already told him. This girl was ready to put up or shut up.

"Oh dear," Hank said, agreeing in his way. Although less vocal about them, he too had superior senses. Not that he needed them standing next to Logan who was like a human compass in the face of hidden, or in their case not so hidden, emotion.

Logan knew a second before it happened that the girl was going to loose her claws. The others weren't so lucky. They were used to the characteristic _snikt_ of his own adamantium laced ones, or the claw-tipped fingers of mutants like Sabretooth that needed no freeing. "Hold it there, Ash," he said, coming out of the shadows, holding up his hands in an as non-threatening gesture as possible.

Henry followed him. "Yes, do still your anger."

Hands half curled -- the better to use claws that extended from fingertips -- and ready to slash at Cyclops, Ashlyn stopped at their voices as if brought out of her mania. 

Logan knew the truth. Hank had scared her stupid. He swore.

Hank turned toward him. "Is something the matter."

"Yeah, she ain't never seen a blue-furred monster that wore glasses an' a lab coat," he said in a rush, under his breath. "No offense."

"I see. And none taken. My dear girl," Hank said, turning his attention to Ashlyn, "there is no reason to fear. My mutation simply manifests most strongly in the physical. As you can see," he began to take slow steps forward, "I am completely…"

Professor Xavier who had been monitoring the entire affair, ready to pull his student and his newest foundling apart by force if necessary, read the utter terror that raced through her mind. If the experience down in the war-room had been a fog of memory than seeing Beast was an absolute tempest. "Hank, no!"

But too late, the great blue-furred apelike genius had already begun to move.

_Will _no one _listen to me today?_ the Professor wondered to himself. 

Ashlyn bolted away from Hank. Where once she had been engaged in a dance of anger with Scott -- who was as far now from being angry as he had been, moments ago, from listening to reason -- she now danced with Hank looking for a way out. 

_Professor, she doesn't even know we're here_, Jean mind-spoke Xavier.

_She is deep in the folds of memory, Jean, and unfortunately Hank's natural tendency to prove that he is not what he seems only serves to make it worse. She does not see him._ The Professor transmitted the fragmented images Ashlyn's mind was broadcasting to his protégé. _We won't be able to help her until we break her out of this trance of memory._

Jean nodded minutely. _Yes Professor._

But it quickly became obvious that they were moving too slowly. Just as Scott and Ashlyn's fight had quickly spiraled out of control for no obvious reason, Ashlyn had maneuvered herself around the stunned and immobile X-Men and was working herself toward the door.

"Rogue!" the Professor called.

She shook herself out of her stupor. "Right."

"I promise you, my dear," Hank continued, advancing on Ashlyn, "that I do not present a deleterious effect on your person," trying to reassure her.

Unnoticed by all, Gambit came stumbling drunkenly into their midst, leaning heavily on the door. "Wha's dis? Dere be a party wit'out Gambit?" Only Wolverine still in his corner, unsure what to do, heard him.

Certainly not Ashlyn who had inadvertently opened her mind in an unconscious attempt to send out a distress call to her sister, as she continued to backpedal. Between the shock of blue-furred Beast, and the sudden inundation of so many mental flavors, Ashlyn hardly knew what was going on around her. Or who she running into.

"Watch it _chere_!" Gambit warned her, coming into sobriety.

But Ashlyn didn't hear-- "_Oomph!_"

Gambit's arms were instantly around her, as his instinct to remain upright kicked in. And failed.

They landed heavily on the floor, Gambit acting as the girl's cushion. He swore roundly in French.

Something long, hard and bottle-shaped jabbed Ashlyn in the middle of her back. Pushing off Gambit she too swore. In French.

A look passed between Jean and the Professor. Logan stared at the girl hard.

Flushing under his blue fur, Beast said, "You seem to be quite fluent in the Gallic tongue."

"Dat ain't the only language dis femme be knowin'," she said smartly. Her mouth fell open. "What be…"

"_Chere_ is French?" Gambit didn't like the sudden quiet.

She shook her head slowly. "_Non_."

Moving for the first time since the entire long incident began, Wolverine took a long dramatic sniff of the air. "Somethin' don't smell right." 

"Logan," the Professor said with an air of warning.

"She ain't smelled right since we got her." He took a menacing step out of his corner, half in and half out of the shadows. "Whatcha hidin' kid?"

Ashlyn took a step back toward Gambit. "Dis ain't what it seem, _mon ami_."

"You wasn't spoutin' no French when we first found ya." It didn't take a psi mutation to feel Logan's anger blaze hot and high, but those with it felt it most keenly.

"Ain't mean ta do…" she said trying defend herself, and inadvertently slipping into Logan's speech patterns.

They all noticed. Sound erupted in the suddenly small office.

_Professor this is quickly spinning out of control!_

I know, Jean. Emotions were running high, and Professor Xavier wasn't sure how to calm his pupils. Every moment only seemed to exacerbate a seemingly groundless situation. 

And Ashlyn was trying to clutch Remy -- who was all but charging her clothes trying to get her off -- and her head at the same time. In the end it was her head that won. 

Clutching it she cried, "_CARA!!_" Everyone was shocked mute by her cry, but only Professor X and Jean Gray heard the telepathic _please…help me_ before she dropped to her knees.

"What's wrong with her, Professor," Scott demanded.

Eyes narrowed, Wolverine said, "She don't smell right."

"Yeah, well you keep saying that, but I don't see you doing anything about."

"Ya know what, bub--"

"Scott! Logan! Both of you!" Jean barked at them. 

Professor Xavier had hovered to the all but forgotten Ashlyn, kneeling and moaning on the floor as she continued to clutch her head. He probed her mental shields only to find the flimsy things in tatters. _Ashlyn_

_Please, please not another one._

Another what? Ashlyn, I'm here to help--

Just be quiet please… Even in her mind she was curled in on herself. _I can't separate you._

Separate who? But then he heard them. The voices of his X-Men, like tapes, playing themselves over and over in her. Most strongly were Logan and Remy, as well as an intense attraction for the Cajun, but every other X-Man in the room sounded in Ashlyn's mind. And even through this he could hear them talking still -- Jean yelling at Logan and Scott, Hank offering profuse apology, Rogue filling Remy in on all that had happened. As he concentrated, ignoring Ashlyn's pleas for the voices to quiet, he realized that although conversation ebbed and flowed around them, the sounds never stopped. They continued to compile, adding themselves to themselves until Professor Xavier more than understood Ashlyn's plea.

_I didn't know_.

His mental voice joined a track he hadn't realized was in her mind. The track of _his _voice in her head. 

I didn't knowI didn't knowI didn't knowI didn't knowI didn't know…

_I'm so sorry Ashlyn._ Then he did for her what she couldn't do for herself. He erected a mental shield around her mind. _Rest now_, was the last voice she heard.

Blinking owlishly at the Professor, Ashlyn slowly lowered her hands from her head. She stared at him, cocking her head to one side as if she'd never seen him before. "Thank you." 

She collapsed.

"Hank, please take our guest down to the infirmary," Professor Xavier said. As the blue-furred scientist did so, picking her up as gently as possible, the Professor turned to the rest of his X-Men. "As for the rest of you, I don't know what just happened here, but I expect we'll know better when Ashlyn wakes up. Scott, I want you to post someone at the front gate to greet her sister Cara. After that last telepathic wave I suspect we shall be meeting her quite shortly."

Shoulders low in contrition, Scott murmured a "Yes, sir," before sliding out of the room. 

"Remy, you are dismissed until properly sober."

"But--"

"Thank you, Remy, that will be all."

Grumbling something about the injustice of it all, he too slipped out the room.

"Rogue, you may go with him. Please inform Storm, and whomever else you deem appropriate, about what has transpired."

"Sure thing, Professuh."

"And Logan…"

Eyes still narrow and hands itching for a fight, Logan growled, "I know what I smelled."

"As far as I can tell your senses are, as usual, right on. I would like you to stay with the girl until she wakes--"

"I got better things to do than babysit a liar."

"Be that as it may, I need you with her. You are, if nothing else, a familiar presence. And I think an intimidating one if the need should arise."

Logan's claws slipped free. He pulled them back in. "All right, Prof, but this don't mean I like it. Or her."

Professor Xavier's smile was wan. "Of course not. Nor any of us."

A faint growl marked Logan's leaving.

"Do you think that was wise, Professor?" Jean asked, the only X-Man left in the room.

"Loath as he may be to admit it, Logan feels a true affection for the girl. He wouldn't not have reacted so strongly to her changing personality if he did not."

She began to pick up after her comrades. Professor Xavier's office was a mess. "And what did he mean by she _smelled_ different?"

A look of consternation crossed Xavier's face. "I'm not sure what it meant exactly to Logan. He's never been able, or willing, to explain how scents relay to him. I know what I…_felt_ in Ashlyn's mind." He shook his head. "What I felt was the presence of other minds. _Our_ minds. What that means…I'm not sure I can know unless Ashlyn tells us herself." Eyes coming back into focus, Professor Xavier seemed to notice what Jean was doing for the first time. "Leave that, Jean, someone else will take care of it. I want to use Cerebro to try and locate our young charge's siblings. Cara and…"

"I believe she said her brother's name was Tarsus."

"Yes. She called him a psychic vampire. We _must _find out if he is anything like Selene."

"But they seem to be very young, Professor."

"And how many adolescent mutants have we met with nearly uncontrollable abilities." He let out a slow breath. "However, I see your point: Selene is almost immeasurably old. Tarsus may have power equal to hers but doubtlessly not the experience.


	2. Second

A/N: it's still unfinished. you've still been warned. but it has serious potential. there are more pages written and lots of input from friends. thanks to Koryne and faz for reviewing. feedback makes the literary world go round. 

§§§

Logan stared at the still-sleeping Ashlyn, wondering at all the trouble she had caused. An' there're two more like'er, he thought to himself.

"And how is our patient faring?"

Logan looked up into Hank's calm face. "Still out like a light, Doc. I 'spect if what's been goin' on in'er head's as bad as the Professor says she's gonna be out fer some time."

"I concur. It is not necessary for you to remain here, however, my friend. I am more than capable of handling our young charge despite her apparent abilities."

"Professor wanted me to hang around."

"Hmm…I wonder why."

"You 'n me both, Hank. You 'n me both."

§§§

"Now explain ta me what ya were doin' drinkin' this early in tha mornin', Remy," Rogue demanded.

"T'ain't none a your business, chere, if Remy wan' to get hisself pissing drunk any time, day or night!"

Rogue gaped at her lover. "Remy, I…"

He was instantly contrite. "I sorry Rogue. Is jus' dis girl got me all turned around, nuh? How she start talkin' like Remy, huh? Why she cling to me so?"

Rogue placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure tha Proffessuh'll figure it out."

Frowning, Remy stated, "Well till he does, dis t'ief goin' ta keep hisself away from certain femmes, n'est-ce pas?"

§§§

Ororo eyed Scott warily as they climbed up to the roof. Bobby had been posted at the gate. "I take it that things did not go well picking up the new mutant."

He sighed. "That's putting it lightly."

"Tell me, Scott, what happened?"

"I wasn't picking her up that was so bad, though she did resist." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, it was just something about her that rubbed me wrong."

When Ororo gave him a questioning look he explained: "I let her provoke me. We were practically fighting in the Professor's office for God's sake! And she's just a kid. She can't be more than…nineteen at best. Then Beast came in and she completely flipped out."

"It does not sound as if you were completely at fault Scott," she said, stopping his upward climb with a hand on his. "The girl had her own part to play."

"But I should have been a bigger man about it."

She smiled serenely at him. "We are all human, Scott. We cannot be perfect all the time, not even our fearless leaders."

A smile touched his lips, although she could tell Scott was still troubled by what he had let happen. "You're a good friend, Ro."

"And you are a good leader, Scott."

§§§

There wasn't much more to do while waiting for Ashlyn to wake than breathing exercises or listen to Hank talk. Lucky for Logan, Hank only needed a warm body to get going. He figured even Ashlyn would qualify. 

"Am I boring, Logan."

"Nah. Some of us just ain't got yer gift of gab," he answered, slumped in a chair about a foot from Ashlyn's bed, deceptively at ease. "Ain't that right, kid?"

Hank looked up from his files, halfway across the room. "Is our young charge awake?"

"Yeah. Ain't ya."

Ashlyn quickly sat up, pulling her legs and the white blanket to her chest. "I'm sorry."

Logan sat up in his chair. "What for."

"Everything. Pickin' that fight. Both of'em."

"You can stop talkin' like me, darlin'. We ain't fooled no more."

Ashlyn shrugged. "It'll go by itself…now that I can't here ya."

"Hear us? Fascinating."

Ashlyn's head whipped around in Beast's direction.

"Please do not be frightened. I assure I do not mean you any harm and I did not mean to frighten you before."

Logan was surprised to see her blush. "Don't apologize. I'm the one that lost my head, an' I'm real sorry for it. I shouldn't a treated you like you're some kinda freak 'cause you're blue."

"It is nothing if not a common reaction," Hank said as he came toward them. "And I accept your apology." He stopped a couple of feet from the bed. "Would you mind terribly if I examine you."

Although she maintained her outward composure Logan caught the spike of fear Hank's request produced. "If you wanna."

"It's all right, darlin'," Logan reassured her. "Ain't no one gonna make ya."

"Logan is quite right. He regularly refuses his yearly check-up."

"Don't need one," he grumped.

"Surely so, but curiosity…"

Ashlyn managed a small smile at their banter. She scratched at her fingertips idly. 

"What's wrong, kid?"

She shrugged. "It's weird bein' alone in my head."

Logan narrowed his eyes. "You some kind of telepath?"

Their heads turned as the door to MedLab slid open. "Something like that," she murmured as Professor Xavier and Jean walked in. 

The Professor smiled warmly at the young mutant. "How are you feeling my dear?"

"Pretty weird actually. Never been alone in my head before."

"Never?" Jean asked. She treasured those rare moments of mental isolation, which were usually of her own making. The Professor had told her of Ashlyn's flimsy mental shields.

Ashlyn shook her head. "The Master never collared me--"

"Collars?" from Professor Xavier.

She nodded vigorously. "He often punished Cara and Tarsus by takin' away their mutant powers with the collars."

"And you were spared because…"

A rueful look came over her face. "My mutant power. It made it so I never upset the Master the way Cara and Tarsus did."

"Yes," the Professor said thoughtfully, "we have been pondering your power--"

"Ya gotta believe I didn't mean for it to get out of control the way it did."

"We all understand."

Smiling Jean added, "You're only human after all."

A pained look crossed Ashlyn's face. "But I-- _we're_ not. Human."

Everyone in the room wore a look of confusion. Except Logan. He nodded. "Knew somethin' was wrong."

Ignoring Logan, the Professor begged Ashlyn to explain. "The Master spliced our genes _in vitro _with a species of wild cat."

"May I ask--" Hank began.

"South-American Margays. For the agility."

Stroking his chin, he mused aloud, "And yet somehow this mysterious master of yours managed to maintain your human physiognomy."

"I don't think so, Hank," Logan said. "I think the kid's got somethin' else up'er sleeve."

"On my--" Ashlyn was cut off by the intakes of breath around her. "--wrist actually." Looking more upset by the moment, she glanced down at the oversized digital wristwatch she wore nestled in golden fur. "Don't you have great timing," she accused.

"Yer a giant cat."

She smiled sadly. "Tell me about it."

"Where's ya tail?"

Breaking in before Ashlyn could answer, the Professor asked: "Gift from your Master?"

"You _could_ say that," she said looking at anything but the Professor. "Look, we were running away, but we couldn't go out into society like _this_," she pointed to herself. "We have orange fur and rosettes…we don't exactly blend."

"And your master made these things for you?"

"Yeah, for when he sent us out to train. Though they weren't really meant for the long term."

The Professor floated closer to the bed, Jean behind him. Ashlyn swung her legs over the side. "So your 'Master' manipulated your genetic material because of the added abilities it would lend you and your siblings."

Ashlyn nodded.

"And do you know why he…created you? For what purpose?"

"To be whatever he wants," she answered without hesitation. "We're his creatures. Or were."

"What happened?" Jean asked.

"Cara and Tarsus decided it was time for us to go. We couldn't be…" she stopped and thought for a moment before going on: "We were becoming what he wanted and we couldn't do it anymore. Cara and Tarsus decided it was time."

Professor Xavier: "And you?"

"I spent a lot of time with the Master's presence, and my mutant power made it difficult for me to go against him. It was only my loyalty and love for them that allowed me to do it at all."

§§§

Bobby tapped his communicator. "Hey, Scott."

_"You got something for me?"_

"Yeah. There's someone roaring down the road on a bike, and she looks pissed from here."

_"Just be nice, Bobby. Don't give her any reason to provoke a fight. Remember she's just looking for her sister."_

"Gotcha. Be seein' you soon, Fearless Leader. Bobby out."

§§§

Logan sniffed disdainfully. "That the same mutant power that let's ya get all cozy with people ya just met."

"Uh huh. The Master called it mimicry. I'm always projecting a low-level psychic field."

"Why didn't we feel it?" Jean asked.

The Professor answered for the young mutant. "Think of it as telepathic white noise."

"Exactly," Ashlyn agreed. "Unless you're looking for it, you're not going to feel it. It's always informing me--"

"Like an empath?"

"Something like that. Except when I'm in close proximity to someone, or just around them a lot I automatically modify my behavior to compliment theirs." 

"Fascinating!"

Ashlyn managed a half-smile for Hank.

"An' when do ya get to be yerself, kid?"

She shrugged. "When I'm alone. I guess. I've never been alone."

§§§

Bobby waved down the rider. "Hey! We've been waiting for--"

The rider, a woman with long black wind-curled hair, fishtailed the bike to a stop about a yard from Bobby, spitting dirt. She was off in moments, letting the heavy machinery fall to the ground. She came sprinting at Bobby. "You killed her! Where's my sister!"

"Killed her? Hey Lady, chill out. Nobody's killed any body."

_"Yet."_

"Whaddaya mean yer never alone?"

"I'm looking fer my psycho brother, Logan!" she exclaimed clutching the sheet tighter. "I cain't afford to go inta the woods somewhere," she said, literally bristling.

Logan wasn't much better, coming half out of his seat in anger. "It ain't gonna work a second time, girlie."

"Peace! Both of you," Professor Xavier said, repeating the order to Ashlyn telepathically.

"It ain't a trick," she said with narrowed eyes. "Yer in here, Logan," she tapped her head with one stubby finger. "Even if the Professor is keeping you out _now_ you're already _in _here. There just ain't--" with difficulty she corrected herself "_aren't_ any updates."

_"Professor!"_

Xavier tapped his comm-link. "Go ahead, Scott."

_"We have a situation up here."_

"What is it?"

_"You were right about Ashlyn's sister showing up sooner than expected. But somehow she's got the idea that we killed the kid. Bobby's handling it, but I'm on my way up to try to convince her of otherwise."_

Professor Xavier frowned. 

§§§

She flicked her fingers. Three inch claws sprang from the tips. 

Bobby swore.

"Who killed my sister," she demanded in a low growl.

"Look…nobody's killed your sist-- You're a giant cat!"

She looked down at her hands gone from smooth suntanned skin to golden fur with black rosettes. "Yeah, tell me about it." 

It sounded like a threat. "I don't wanna hurt you, Lady."

She made to swipe at Bobby's throat.

So he froze her hands.

A growl trembling her body, Bobby saw that she was concentrating. And pissed as hell. "Hey, I warned you. Look, someone's comin' out here to explain everything, okay?" 

Then there was the unmistakable sound of ice cracking. Unmistakable to Bobby.

§§§

Ashlyn leapt off the bed. "Cara!"

Professor Xavier shook his head. "Scott shall see to the problem."

"You don't understand, Cara isn't like me. At all. She's like Logan."

"And what's that, darlin'?" he asked, voice dangerously low.

She turned to him. "Half-wild. Barely contained in her mask of humanity even when she's wearing a skin." She turned back to Xavier. "Cara had the hardest time adjusting to the world outside the lab. If she thinks I'm dead… And why would she think I'm dead anyway?"

§§§

Transfixed, Bobby watched her claws spring up another three inches through the glass-clear ice around her hands. Then six more. The last inch and a half poked out of the ice like strange sculptures.

He barely had time to duck when she used the block still around her hands as a sledgehammer. _"Cyclops!!"_

"You share a telepathic connection with your siblings, right?" Jean asked.

Ashlyn nodded.

"When the Professor closed your mind off from our emotions, he also closed it from every other kind of telepathic communication. Neither of them can feel you right now, and the only time something like that would happen--"

"Is if I'm dead," Ashlyn finished for her. "You gotta let me back out, Prof."

Shaking his head, the Professor said, "You are not yet prepared to handle the onslaught of so many open minds in one place."

"If you don't drop the shields you got on me right now then whoever you've got up there is gonna become my sister's scratching post. Please…"

§§§

High up on the left gate-pillar, Cyclops, ignoring her strange appearance for the moment, touched the side of his glasses. The red laser that shot out was meant to stun the girl -- had she not pitched forward into a roll, out of range. "Cara, we haven't killed your sister," he called out.

"Then why'd you just shoot at me!"

Standing up behind her, Bobby shouted, "Maybe 'cause you just tried to impale me?"

She rounded on him. "I'll do better than try, Ice Boy."

"It's Ice_Man_!"

"Bobby pay attention," Scott called. Of all the times for a fit of vanity…

He turned just in time to watch the ice around Cara's hands shatter. Claws fully extended she leapt at him.

Both Cyclops and Bobby took aim at her. She twisted in midair, veering off to the left. "What the--!"

But Cyclops wasted no such time marveling at acrobatics he had already seen. He took aim again, sending the young mutant back into the air.

§§§

"Professor, she's not going to stop until she knows I'm alive," Ashlyn pleaded. "Or until someone kills her."

"Sounds like my kinda girl."

Ashlyn hissed at Logan.

Frowning at them both, the Professor said, "I can not risk your sanity."

"So you're gonna risk all your X-Men?" She looked from him to Jean, and then to Hank. "Can't you see that's absurd?"

"You ain't gonna get any help from them two on this one, kid."

"_Logan_…"

"Look Chuck, the kid's right. Why risk Scott and Bobby when all ya gotta do is let'em see each other. Ain't this takin' yer sense of duty a little too far?"

With an intensity that made her want to lash the tail she didn't have, Ashlyn asked, "You'll take me up?"

"Ya bet kid."

Xavier: "Wait."


	3. Third

A/N: still incomplete. still have more written than you can see. oddly enough i'm being stifled by the X-Men themselves... 

§§§

Making, what he hoped was, an educated guess, Cyclops aimed at Cara and then, quickly, off to the left of her original direction.

She fell to the ground with a heavy thump. 

"Cara! What did you do to my sister?" Ashlyn demanded, running toward the gate. Her claws popped free, but she wasn't sure which she wanted to do more: scale the pillar and gut Scott or climb over the wrought iron and help her sister. Her sister won out. Ashlyn leapt for the gate.

Logan caught her by her scruff. "No need to be getting' all wild on us, kid."

"I thought you were gonna help me," she growled.

"I am. They're on automatic," he said nodding his head to the inwardly swinging gates.

Ashlyn tore herself from Logan's grasp and ran to her sister. She dropped to her knees beside her, hissing at Bobby. "What'd you do to her?"

"Do to her?! You should be asking what she did to _me._"

"Relax, Bobby," Cyclops said, coming down off the brick pillar. "She all right?"

Cara jumped up, lunging for him--

--straight into Ashlyn's arms. "Weren't you the one that told me that fightin' the X-Men was the stupidest thing I coulda ever done?"

_"He shot me!"_ she growled.

Logan laughed. Which only made Cara spitting mad. 

"Cara…Cara…" Ashlyn murmured, shooting a dirty look in Logan's direction. She rubbed her face against her sister's, renewing their familial bond. "What's some singed fur between sisters."

One last hiss at the X-Men around them and then Cara was rubbing back. "I thought…" her voice hitched. "I thought you were dead." They embraced tightly.

Bobby blushed. "Jeez. I'm gonna go now. If you need me, I'll, uh…" He pointed in the general direction of the mansion. Shaking his head, he walked away. 

"You two comfortable down there?"

Cara hissed at Scott over her sister's shoulder. 

"C'mon, maybe we should get up," Ashlyn conceded.

Cara retracted her claws.

"Your hands are blue!"

She looked down at her stubby-fingered hands, which were now just hands, not furred things. "It's nothing." As she watched the holographic overlay stuttered and went out again. Cara looked up at her sister. "I'm fine. Help me up."

Ashlyn helped her sister stand, looping her under around Cara's waist. Flashing teeth quickly at Scott, she helped her across the grounds.

"Nice work there, Slim," Wolverine said when Cyclops jumped down from his perch.

The X-leader ignored him.

"Does it…?" Ashlyn asked.

"You have no idea," Cara answered, clutching her side. "I can't believe…"

"Well they didn't want to hurt me."

"Don't think he was trying to hurt me either," Cara muttered.

Ashlyn chuckled darkly. Cara sighed at the familiar sound. It was something she herself would have done. She bent her head to her sisters. _"Missed you."_

Ashlyn rubbed her cheek against Cara's in silent agreement. 

Far above them, Storm watched the motley group from the roof. She had been with Cyclops when Bobby's call for help had come through the comm. He had declined her assistance, and seemed to have things well under control now. She turned toward the stairs, heading down to meet them.

Remy also watched as they trooped across the grounds from a window on the third floor landing. Despite himself the _jeune fille_ had intrigued the thief – attracting and repulsing him. He too headed for the stairs, but for a more unobtrusive look.

"This way, darlin'," Wolverine said, leading them to the elevators that would take them below to Hank's lab. "I could carry ya down if ya like."

Snarling, Cara said, "I can do just fine on my own little man."

Smiling a little ferally himself, he answered, "Thought ya'd say somethin' like that." He swooped down unexpectedly and came up carrying the young mutant.

"Put me down!"

Students' heads were popping out of doorways all along the ground floor.

"No."

"Yes! _Now!_" The first three inches of her claws popped free.

_Snikt!_ "I don't think so, little girl." 

Cara eyed the three nine-inch adamantium blades a breath away from her face with respect. "I yield."

Ashlyn snickered.

"Ya got a problem, kid?"

"Ain't too many people that can make Cara yield. Oh, I'm fine."

Cara bared her teeth to her sister.

"Enough, the two of you," Scott said, speaking for the first time since coming indoors. "Let's just get you down to the infirmary."

"And I thought I told you to stop with the mimickin'," Wolverine warned Ashlyn.

She shrugged. "You're in here. Ya ain't never gonna be out."

The elevator doors opened.

Cara gave Wolverine an appraising look. "So you're the one." They got into the elevator and turned around. "Hmm."

"The one what?" He swung around to look at Ashlyn who gave him an _I haven't the foggiest _look.

"That Ash took after. She sounded funny last we spoke."

"Took after?" from Scott.

"And how exactly does that happen?" from Logan.

Cara shrugged. "Gotta ask Ashlyn. Never really understood it myself."

"Someone explain to me just what's going on here!"

"My mutant ability," Ashlyn said. "I modify my behavior to compliment whomever I'm in close contact with. Or I did until the Professor shut me down."

A light dawned in his eyes. Or they all imagined it did. "So our fight…"

She nodded. 

"And speaking French?"

"Well I already know French, but yeah. Though I've never had it happen so fast. Ever."

"I believe I shall join you."

Ashlyn turned from Cyclops to the dark-skinned white-haired beauty that joined them. Some of the tension eased out of Scott's back now that he had an ally. "You heading down, Ro?"

"I am now," she said in her stately manner. The long-suffering elevator doors closed behind her.

Ashlyn was instantly intrigued by the tall woman. She radiated calm like an emotional space heater, giving everyone a chance to breath again.

Still facing the little group, Ororo introduced herself: "But I am also called Storm."

"Why's that?" Ashlyn asked.

"Ms. Munroe's mutant ability is to control the weather," Scott answered for his friend.

That earned an appreciative smile from Cara, still in Logan's arms.

"Stop squirmin', kid," he complained.

"I am not squirming," Cara protested, wriggling in annoyance.

"Yes ya are," he grumped.

Lips turned down in an elegant frown, Storm asked, "Why are you teasing the girl, Logan."

They all turned to him expectantly.

"Can't a guy have a little fun?"

Mad enough to spit, Cara twisted ever more furiously in his arms. Logan only let out a belly laugh. As the elevator doors opened it echoed down the cavernous halls of the X-Men's headquarters.

"Thought you were the one that told yer sister that fightin' the X-Men was the stupidest thing she ever did," he said as they walked down the hall. Ashlyn had abandoned them to talk to Storm, Cyclops on the girl's other side.

"That was before I knew you liked to play games with people," she snarled.

"Just havin' a little fun, darlin'."

"Well have it on someone else's time."

His answering laugh bounced off the walls. Ashlyn glanced back momentarily then turned back to her conversation. 

"Yer sister said ya weren't nothin' like her."

"She's right," Cara gritted out.

"An' the two of ya still manage to get on."

Jutting her chin toward her sister, Cara said, "Ashlyn manages. She makes it possible."

"By changin'."

"Yeah."

"What if she don't feel like it."

That stopped Cara for a moment.

"Or what if you don't want her to. What if ya wanna have a knock-down, drag-out fight with yer sister?"

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, Cara gaped up at Wolverine as if she'd never seen him before.

"An' here we are. Got another one for ya, Hank."

The blue-furred Beast approached the pair. "My, the resemblance is striking."

Cara turned toward him. "We're triplets," she said distantly.

"Hmm…" Beast pulled out a pen-light and flashed it in her eyes. "Bring her here Logan. Do you feel sleepy…"

"Name's Cara," Wolverine supplied.

"I can talk for myself, thank you," she said smartly, snapping out of her daze.

Ashlyn set a confident hand on Logan's shoulder stopping him from tossing her sister onto the white-sheet covered bed. "She's always worse after a fight."

He stared at her for a long minute then: "Ya even smell a little different."

"Yeah, she does," Cara grumped. "It'll be worse when she gets her power back. Now do you mind setting me down?"

Wolverine dropped his package on the bed. She winced, but didn't complain. 

"If you don't mind," Hank said, shooing them away from his new patient.

Glancing at her sister over her shoulder, Ashlyn said, "It's gotten worse since we ran away. Before He would have punished her."

Scott who had come to join them asked who "He" was.

"Our Master."

"Y'know," Logan said, "this Master of yours sounds like some kinda fella." He released the first claw on his right hand, and examined it. An idle threat.

"Who is this 'Master?'" Scott demanded, feeling increasingly out of the loop.

The calm Ashlyn had borrowed from Storm was quickly fading in the face of Logan's casual violence. That, without her mutant power, it had been a forced emulation certainly wasn't helping. And she didn't know why, but being around Scott really wasn't helping. She quickly came to realize that all the mediation skills she had honed with her sister and brother paled in the face of whatever conflict these two men shared. Until she could better control the near instinctive reaction they each caused in her regarding the other, she was going to have to avoid being with both of them. And the sooner she started the better.

"I explained it to Professor Xavier, so if you wanna ask him…"

"I just might do that," Scott said. "I'm sure the Professor would like to talk to you as well."

Ashlyn looked longingly at her sister. Cara's attention was focused entirely on being a willing patient.

"Yer flickerin', kid."

"Huh?" Ashlyn turned to Logan who looked at her left wrist pointedly. 

She looked down and watched as her hand shifted from golden-skinned to golden-furred, and back again. "Oh…" She deactivated the image inducer but didn't take it off. "I…I guess I may as well go with you Mr…" she trailed off, unsure how to address Scott. They _had_ been in three fights in under twelve hours.

" 'Scott' will be just fine. Or Mr. Summers if you prefer."

With one last long glance toward her sister, Ashlyn turned to follow Scott. "I'll figure something out, I'm sure."

"Are you coming with us, 'Ro?"

The white-haired goddess nodded. "Let us see what Professor Xavier has to say."

"Not that anyone cares…," Logan said, pulling out a cigar.

Ororo frowned.

"…but I think I'll stay here with th' kid."

"Please say that you have no intention of lighting that offensive article in the medical lab."

"Now would I do that, Goddess?"

Ororo frowned as the elevator doors closed on Logan's smiling face. "Surely he would not…"

Neither Scott nor Ashlyn thought it wise to comment. 

§§§

be updated. join the Y!Group, Vashti's Stories. 


	4. Fourth

A/N: as always, hot off the presses. will edit later.

§§§

"And is your sister comfortable?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Very good. Please, take a seat Ashlyn. There are many more questions I would like to ask you. Have made your…"

Her face hot with an invisible flush, she nodded quickly. "Yeah, I apologized to…" She glanced at Scott. "Haven't figured out what to call him," she finished with a kind of mumble.

"I'm sure 'Scott' will do?" Professor said, looking at his first pupil.

He nodded.

"Yeah…so I apologized to Scott on the way to the Med Lab."

"And you've explained the nature of your mutant gift?"

"…Roughly."

Professor Xavier's eyebrow rose. Scott saved Ashlyn from answering: "She thought it might be better coming from you."

Fingers steepled together, the Professor said, "I see. Ashlyn here, beyond her obvious mutation, is a kind of empath. What is peculiar is that through this empathy Ashlyn modifies her own personality and behavior to compliment, or suit, whomever it is she is with. Is that accurate?" he asked Ashlyn.

She nodded.

"Unfortunately it would seem that because of the untutored nature of Ashlyn's gift, it takes her some time to weed through the emotional landscape of those around her, hence your fight earlier in my office."

Scott frowned. "I don't understand…"

Ashlyn half-turned in her chair to look at Scott. "I… When I… Can I ask you a question?" When he nodded, she continued: "Do you and Logan have something going on? A rivalry? Because his was the main flavor I was tasting and I can't think of any other reason I would attack you unprovoked like that." Flushing again, she added, "Verbally I mean."

A look passed between the three X-Men in the room. With a softly regal smile, Ororo answered, "You could say that, child."

"Yeah well, except for my sister I've never tasted anyone so casually angry."

"What about your master?" Professor Xavier asked her.

She turned back to him. "Not the Master. He was never angry. Not like that at least. The Master's anger was…cold."

"Ashlyn, can you describe your master for us? His physical appearance?"

She took a deep breath. Let it out. "Tall. Pale--"

Scott: "How tall?"

"If you're…not quite six feet then the Master was about seven? Pale like I said. And…cold. Everything about him was cold. Calm. Always in control of everything and everyone in the lab. But that's his flavor, not his appearance."

"Tell us, Ashlyn," Professor Xavier said, "was there anything particularly…striking about your master. Anything unusual?"

"You're asking a half-cat if there was anything unusual. Professor, everything was unusual."

Storm spoke her name in a low melody of admonition.

"Sorry…still defensive. Um, the Master had a red jewel in the center of his forehead. I asked him--"

Scott was immediately in the defensive. _Relax, Scott,_ the Professor spoke into his mind. _ Jean and I had already conjectured that Ashlyn's mysterious master might be Mr. Sinister._

Although bereft of her empathic abilities, Ashlyn immediately sensed the change in the room. "There were a lot of weird things in the compound. I didn't think the jewel was all that special." Now that her sister was here, all pretense of bravado had faded and she felt extremely small and alone. Knowing that Cara was so close and yet beyond her reach… It wasn't the same as all three trips being together but it was better than nothing. "Please, can I go back downstairs to my sister?"

She sounded so pitiable, Scott felt twice as bad about the argument they had gotten into earlier. It was like talking to a different person.

"I would like to get you settled into a room first--" Xavier began.

Ashlyn rose quickly. "That won't be necessary. As soon as Cara's okay we'll be gone."

Eyebrows shot up all around the room. "And why is that?"

"My brother? Tarsus? We have to find him. That is, Cara and I have to find him before he kills anyone else. And before the Master finds him first."

Coming close to the short teen, Storm said, "The X-Men shall assist you, child."

"You don't understand--"

Xavier spoke again: "You called your brother a psychic vampire, yes? We have had dealings with such creatures. As Storm said, the X-Men will help you find your brother."

"But this isn't your problem."

With all the solemnity of a church benediction, Scott said, "It is now."

Glancing at the three faces in the room, Ashlyn saw that this was one battle she wasn't going to win. A weight she hadn't known she was carrying was suddenly lifted. She almost sank back into her chair, but just as her knees were beginning to buckle in relief she remembered: "So does that mean you're going to free my mind now?" she asked Professor Xavier.

"Ashlyn, dear, I--"

"It's like being blind! I feel like every time I meet someone new I'm going to walk into a wall or something. Or like I'm gonna trip over my own tongue."

"My dear, you nearly had a mental break-down."

"Because there were too many strong flavors all competing for my attention! All of them new, none of them sorted," Ashlyn insisted. "I've been on my own for a little over a year, Professor, everywhere from small towns to large cities, looking for my brother. But always I had a chance to set up…" she fished for the word for a moment, "filters! This time it was just everything at once."

"Ashlyn--"

"Professor, please! It's suffocating in here," she said, thumping her chest with her right fist. "I'm lost. Just… Just give me an hour to get myself used to the climate of this place and if after an hour I still don't have a handle on myself, you put up all the mental blocks you want. Please…" It was hopeless. She could see it in his eyes.

Professor Xavier rolled out from behind his desk. "Storm, show Ashlyn to an unoccupied room in a relatively quiet wing of the house."

Smiling the white-haired goddess replied, "So as far away from Jubilee and Kitty as possible."

"Precisely."

Refusing to hang her head in defeat, despite feeling whipped, Ashlyn followed Storm out of Professor Xavier's office.

"So," Scott began, "which is the biggest threat: this brother of theirs or the possibility that Sinister will come here looking for them?"

Frowning, Charles could only tell his student that he wished he knew.

§§§

"Does this hurt?"

"Nope."

"Or this?"

Cara shook her head as Hank poked her somewhere else.

"And this?"

_"SSS!" _She scooted back so fast, the sheets came off the bed. Her fur was standing on end and her back was arched.

"Fascinating!"

"For who, Doc?" she said through gritted teeth. "That was the burn," she accused.

"Yes, I know."

"You _knew_?"

"Most assuredly. I was curious about your healing ability." Pushing his glasses up his nose he continued: "In my experience, feral mutants tend to heal faster than the more humanoid counterparts. In the case of Logan, that tendency is greatly accelerated."

Reflexively licking her down fur, Cara said, "Maybe next time ask, huh?" She looked up from her meticulous washing. "What about you, big guy? You're not exactly a humanoid either."

"Indeed I am not and I too have noticed that I recovery time is, at times, half that of my teammates."

"And do you find yourself fascinating in that respect, too?"

"Quite."

Cara took a deep breath. "I guess you're okay then." She loosened her muscles and slid back down to Hank's end of the bed. "But no more curiosity pokes. I've had more than enough of that for one lifetime, thank you. 'Sides…_I'm_ the cat."

§§§

Tarsus found it nearly impossible to monitor his sisters' activities without opening up his mind to theirs. And not just their minds, but the Master's as well. So he didn't.

§§§

"Remy see Stormy finally meet de newest addition to de X-Mansion."

"Hello to you to, Remy. And do not call me by that name," she said by way of greeting as they continued up the stairs past the first landing.

Remy only grinned.

"You have met our guest then?"

"_Oui_. The _petite chat_ not tell Storm how she hang on Remy like he de only safety dere is?"

Wondering how many this was, Ashlyn blushed again. "I seem to be doing a lot of apologizing. I-- I'm sorry. My ability got away from me."

"Oh, Remy not mind if a _belle femme_ decide to hold onto him tight," he said, gracing her with a winning smile.

Shaking her head, Storm warned Ashlyn that, "Remy is a consummate flirt."

"Remy takes offense to dat."

Raising her eyebrows, or what would have been eyebrows on a humanoid, Ashlyn asked, "So you're not a consummate flirt?"

"Oh, _oui, oui cherie_. What Stormy say is true…it how she say it."

Despite all her former frustration, Ashlyn felt herself being charmed by this lanky red-haired man and his peculiar eyes. No, not by his physical appearance, although that was charming enough, but by _him_. By this Remy's personality.

The reached the second landing. Storm led them down the hall. Brow furrowed, Remy asked where they were.

"We are going to one of the more unoccupied halls of the girls' dormitory."

"Ah, Remy understand. Away from Kitty an' Jubilee, nuh?"

"Precisely."

Ashlyn frowned. Who were these Kitty and Jubilee people? And why was everyone trying to steer her away from them? Ashlyn was about to ask Storm just that when the Professor released her.

She missed a step. Gasped. Grabbed the wall. Professor Xavier hadn't completely taken down the mental shielding he'd put in place, but even the small window of release he'd allowed her was completely unexpected. It was like a glass of icy water being poured over her head.

"_Chere_ is alright?" "Yes, are you well Ashlyn?"

She shook her head. "I mean, yes," she said backpedaling quickly when she saw that they were going to come to her rescue. Storm's mental flavor she could stand, but the moment the Professor had opened her up Ashlyn had been inundated with Remy. It didn't help that she'd already tasted his mind. The flavor was tickling the back of her throat. She knew that if she allowed him to touch her before she got a handle on herself, it would come crashing up with all the power of a tidal wave.

_"Cherie…"_

"No, Remy," Storm ordered, "do not touch her." She slowly made her way to Ashlyn's side. "Tell me what has happened, child."

Ashlyn straightened, leaning against the wall. "Professor Xavier has lowered some of the shields around my mind. I can feel you know."

Storm's eyebrows rose gently. "And how do I feel?"

Eyes drifting closed, Ashlyn focused on Storm, on the almost tangible field of emotion surrounding the noble beauty. A throbbing began behind her eyes as she actively tried to use a talent that was usually passive. A wave of calm passed through her. "You feel like a pool of cool water."

"Then let your focus be on me, child," Storm said, taking Ashlyn's hand. She turned to Remy. "All is well."

He passed a fingerless gloved hand over his eyes. "You are done with your feminine bonding, then?"

Storm frowned at Remy as she passed him. He imagined he could feel imperial robes sweeping past him as the goddess walked her charge down the hall. He grinned. "_Les belles femmes_ not pleased with Remy."

"More like too pleased," Ashlyn mumbled archly.

§§§

A/N: sorry it takes me so long to update. i'm working on it. i swear ;) 


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